


Matthew doesn't think before he speaks and it brings about more problems than solutions.

by fanboysstillexist



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Homophobia, Transphobia, Violence, saloonatics, torture mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22762207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanboysstillexist/pseuds/fanboysstillexist
Summary: Matthew doesn’t want the bandits to be hanged so he convinces the others to bring them to England, and accidentally gets them sent to the dungeons.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter One

It all looked very unlike the typical princely posture everyone around him was accustomed to. With his hands on his knees, leaning his face against the cool concrete of the jail wall, he panted, face a blotchy, sweaty red. He looked unfit to don the layers and layers of purple and gold he had yet to take off. 

“How…do any of you…” He took a gasp, “ _survive_ in this hell?” He looked up and blinked. He must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, because he sneered and said, “Oh. Well, I’m _terribly_ sorry, fellows-”

“Are you okay?” Juan, the shortest bandit in the cell, interrupted, “I ‘member your skin bein’ a different shade of pink before.” 

The prince sucked in a quick breath, and it wasn’t due to the temperature. 

“Well, my apologies if I’m not used to being on fire. You will all soon, I’m sure, understand the feeling.” He turned on his heel, and walked towards the door. He jerked his hand away, though, when the metal burned him. He pulled his sleeve over his hand and twisted it that way, opening the door. He heard a whisper then a laugh behind him, and spun around to face the sound. “Who said that?” 

A few more bandits laughed, including Juan.

“As your-” He cleared his throat, “As a prince, I demand that you tell me. What is so funny?” 

“Who’s askin’?” Another bandit straightened his shoulders and glared a hole through the prince.

“Uh…” He swallowed in response, his eyes falling upon Juan. He was quite passive, wasn’t he? “Juan, was it? Tell me now.”

“U-um.” Juan stuttered, everyone staring at him, “I…they were sayin’ it was weird how you can’t stand any heat.“ 

“Well,” The prince huffs, “in England we don’t have quite the same weather. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turns on his heel and walks out the door, ignoring how his hand burnt when he touched the handle.

Eduardo flicked Juan upside the head, “Idiot.”

“Hey!” He rubbed his head, “I only told ‘im so he wouldn’t be upset!”

“Why would you care about his comfort?” He crossed his arms, a stance he often took.

“Because…” Juan bit the inside of his lip, “well, I feel bad for him, I guess.”

“Bad? For him?” His eyes were wide, “Why? He’s a prince. He’s rich, he has everything, and most importantly, he _threw us in jail_.” 

“The sheriff threw us in jail, technically.” Juan muttered, “And without the detective-”

“God, Juan, you’re such an idiot.” Eduardo ran a hand down his face, “he got out! He escaped, and with him, our possibility of making a profit.”

“He was a person, though,” Juan said, “y-you really shouldn’ta done that to him, we-we should’ve stuck to bank robbin’.” 

“Me? We all helped!” Eduardo gestured in a circle to Juan and Marco, the latter pretending to read in the corner while he listened in on the other’s conversation. “And that includes you, so don’t pretend you weren’t a part of this just so you can have a pity party with yourself.”

“I had no say in it!” Juan stood up straight then backed down again once he saw the crease in Eduardo’s eyes, “You two brought the prince in and forced me ta keep watch! I never knew nothin’ ‘bout it ‘til he was already unconscious!”

“Still! You could’ve always just said no and left,” he threw his arms out beside him, “that’s always been an option.”

“No, it hasn’t, because then where would I live?” Juan couldn’t keep the bite from his voice, “I joined our group thinking no one would get hurt, and then when I had ta hurt someone, I was already trapped!” 

“No one ever trapped you!” Eduardo’s voice suddenly boomed around the small jail. Everyone turned to look now, “so shut up and stop acting like a baby!”

“I’m not acting like a baby! You know what you would’a done if I had refused to watch over him! I wouldn’t get food, or a share of the gold, or-or,” Juan found it hard to hold back, but he suppressed his urge to yell, “or you might’ve made me sleep in the stables, like last time I didn’t do _whatever you said_!”

“Juan-” his voice was a warning, sent through gritted teeth.

“Or maybe all that wouldn't’ve be enough for you. Maybe you’d leave for a week without telling me, so that I’d think you’d died! Or you’d make me be the one to kill the lame horse, even though you knew I loved him! Wasn’t that a fun little punishment for, what was it again? Oh, right; having a conscience?” Tears pricked Juan’s eyes, as they often did when he was mad, but he barely felt them.

“Juan, shut-”

“So yeah. I think I did feel a little trapped. In fact, I think I’ve felt that way since the day I met you-”

“Shut UP!” Eduardo punched Juan in the nose, and now the tears were really flowing, as he fell to the cold, hard floor with Eduardo on top of him. “I SAVED you! You would’ve starved to death if I didn’t take you in!” 

“I could’a found someone else! Or made it by myself!” He defended himself. “I didn’t need you, or anyone!”

Eduardo’s eye twitched.

“You sure did need me when your parents died though, didn’t you?” Eduardo glared knowingly at him, and Juan’s sweat turned cold. 

“My parents might’ve died when I was young,” Juan said with startling steadiness, “but at least they didn’t beat me while they were alive, like yours did.” 

Eduardo blinked and shook, betrayal evident in the way his fist slowly curled around Juan’s collar. 

~

The two men glared at the other through two different cells, separated so they wouldn’t make good on the threats they whispered under their breath.

“Now, are you two going to continue to act like children, or am I going to have to confine you to separate rooms?” Sheriff Thompson said, looking tired and fed up with the two bandits. 

“’S not my fault Eduardo took it too-”

“You’re the one who-!” 

“Stop! Stop it, both of you!” He shouted, and rolled his good eye. “I have half a mind to put you two in the other rooms. You’re disturbing the other prisoners.” 

“Yeah, Juan.”

“Oh, would you-”

“That’s it.” Thompson unlocked Juan’s cell and grabbed his arm, pulling him out, “I’m putting you in a different room by yourself.”

“Wha-what?” Juan tried to pull away, “Why not Eduardo?”

“…Eh. I was closer to you.” Thompson shrugged, “And you’re beaten up pretty badly. The other cell’s lock is harder to break, so he can’t hurt you more if he happens to get out.” 

“Oh, great.” Juan sighed as he followed Thompson to the other room, which took a different key to open. 

“Good riddance.” Eduardo glared, but Juan refused to look back at him.

~ 

“Yeah,” Thompson said, setting the sweating glass of celebration-whiskey back onto the counter, “he looks like his head was bashed in. A split lip, two black eyes, the works. We even had to put him in a different cell in a different room.”

“The blood was hell to clean up off the floor,” The bartender nodded, and set the clean glass on the shelf behind him and picked up a new one.

“The other guy didn’t come out too good lookin’ either,” Thompson said. “Didn’t know he had it in him to fight like that.” 

“He did strike me as sort of a meater as well, but I suppose looks are often deceiving.” Edward said offhandedly as he scribbled onto some paper. 

“Whatcha’ writin’?” Thompson asked, leaning over to see.

“Oh, just about how we saved the prince and that I’m okay.” Edward pressed his lips together as he scribbled out a misspelling on quite an easy word, “He, my brother, worries quite I deal, you see.”

“Really? You didn’t tell me ya had a brother.” 

“I’ve only known you just under a week, and while the prince was captured my brother wasn’t exactly the first thing on my mind.” Edward smiled, “but no, his name is Eddins.”

“Really? What’s he do?” 

The prince swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the ice melt. His distorted reflection raised it’s curved eyebrow. “Got his face ‘bashed in’, huh?” He smirks at his glass, “I simply wouldn’t be able to handle it if any of those heathens were to lay a single crooked finger on me.” 

“Yes, I know,” Edward looked away and sipped his glass, picking up his pen and writing again.

“I mean,” He turns to Thompson, “can you imagine? This face? Worth more than any gold.”

“Yes. It would be a travesty.” Edward said, writing faster.

“I mean, not to offend you two or any of the lovely people in this town, but,” Edward squeezed his eyes shut as Matthew spoke, “I triple in value in comparison.”

“Of course you do.” Edward said, visibly cringing.

“I simply can’t imagine my face getting even a scratch.” He put a hand to his forehead, looking both earnest and shockingly over-dramatic.

“Well, it wouldn’t be that big a deal,” Thompson pointed out, “it happens to all of us.”

“No, no,” Matthew shook his head, “I’d have to leave forever, since there’d be nothing else for me to do. There’d be no point in going on.”

“…That’s really sad, Princey.” Thompson sipped some of his drink, looking over the other with a concerned eye.

“It’s supposed to be.” He put simply, taking a slightly longer sip that usual, “as much as I loathe that little man, I pity him. Hurting one’s looks is the greatest sin of all.”

The bartender laughed a little. “I thought the greatest sin was murder.” 

“Yes, yes,” He rolled his eyes, “that to. Murder, then hurting my face.”

“What about torture?” Edward said smugly, deciding to play the technicality game.

The prince sighs loudly, “Murder, torture, than my face, those are the greatest–wait–no! Not my face, hurting my–”

“HA!” Like a burst of energy, Thompson laughed. 

“Your face,” Edward said between laughs, “is the worst sin of all humanity. That is just–that is great.”

“’S all makin’ sense now.” 

“Oh, shut up!” He huffed and crossed his arms, “My point–” 

“I don’t think you’re that good looking,” The bartender shrugged, “I mean, of course I don’t, but I can’t even see how others might think you are. Under that makeup, I reckon you look rather plain.”

The prince looked as if someone had shot him. “You don’t think–you can’t–plain-”

“Why are you overreacting like this?” The bartender smirked, “Who cares what I think? You don’t even know me.”

“I-it’s the principal of it!” The prince exclaimed, “How could someone think that about me at all?”

“You’re being kinda childish right now,” The bartender shrugged.

“I am not!” He slammed his fist down onto the counter, and regretted it immediately. Patrons turned to stare and, once they realized what happened, started to laugh. He bit his lip and ran out of the saloon, with Edward and Thompson chasing him down.

They don’t need to run far, because Matthew took refuge just behind the bar.

“Prince Matthew?” Edward knelt down in front of the prince who was sitting on the ground, “Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, I’m just feeling rather…” He shakily breathed, “You think I’m good looking right? Objectively?”

“Um…” Edward squinted, “do the ladies fawning all over you every chance they get not enough to convince you? Trust me; you look good. Some bartender in a nothing town–sorry Thompson–doesn’t change that.” 

Matthew pondered this, then sighed, “I suppose.” His eyes were downcast.

“Well, hey,” Thompson laughed to lighten the mood, “at least you’ll always be better lookin’ than that bandit.”

“That’s setting the bar rather low,” Matthew scowled. “Saying I look better than someone who recently got their head bashed into concrete isn’t much of a compliment. But you’re right…hey, I have an idea. I could go see how that man looks in person! That’ll surely boost my confidence!”

“…Um,” Edward said, “maybe you should go with one of us? For safety reasons–that is one of the men that kidnapped you, you know.”

“No, no, I’m not a child,” He stood up and wiped the dirt from his clothes, “I can handle myself, thank you.”

Edward looked to Thompson. 

“Eh…sure. I trust ya.” 

“Will you excuse us, Matthew, while you stay right here?” Edward turned and walked a few paces with Thompson so that Matthew wouldn’t hear them, “are you insane? I didn’t come here by boat for months just so that you could jeopardize his safety again!” 

“’Tective, you’re bein’ too over dramatic,” he waved him off, “like he said, he’s a grown man, he can handle it.”

“Oh…” he looks back at Matthew already walking towards the jail with a determined step. “alright. But I’m blaming you if anything goes wrong.”

~

“All I’m saying is that you are the one who first mentioned parents,” A high-ish voice said, sounding strained like they’d made that point more than once. Matthew had his hand on the doorknob but then he froze and leaned closer to the door, (he didn’t press his ear to it because he didn’t want to dirty his face), to try to hear better. “You kind of started it.”

“God!” Eduardo shouted, and the sound of steel bars rattling like they were tumbling out of a brown bag rang through the jail, “what he said to me was way worse!”

“You shouldn’t have started it! Then it wouldn’t have happened at all!” She responded, “honestly, I think you should both apologize to each other.”

“What!” He yelled, “I shouldn’t have to!” 

Matthew sighed as Eduardo recaps what he just said again, and eventually opened the door.

“Hello, I’m going to see Juan,” Matthew said, realizing as he walked in that he didn’t know which cell he was in. “Er…where may he be?”

“…Why do you _care_?” Eduardo seethed, “what, is he the talk of the fuckin’ world now? Is he just so great you just have to see him? What, you-you gonna fall in love with him too?” His voice breaks at the end.

“I am _not_ in love with him!” A woman said, the one with the high-ish voice, “And even if I did, you’d have no right to complain!”

“Not to interrupt a lover’s spat,” Matthew coughed, “but where is he?”

“He’s over there, you pansy.” Another bandit nods to a room on the left and Matthew squares his shoulders and walks towards it, thankful there was steel between them.

The two people resumed their arguing, but it was barely audible when Matthew closed the door. Half the room was behind bars, where Juan sat on a lone concrete bench. The other half was connected to the door, with a mirroring bench on the same side.

Juan perked up at the door, and blinked through deep purple-rimmed eyes when he saw the royal, clad in violet coats, gold earrings, and ginger hair that clung to his sweaty forehead. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, and lightly scratched a bloody mess where a perfectly ordinary nose might have once been.

“Uh…” he swallowed, not expecting him to look this bad. He didn’t need to convince himself of his look’s worth. Especially not when the person he was comparing himself to was worse–looking than he could ever be, or so the prince hoped. “I’m not sure I remember, actually.”

“Oh.” Juan sayed, “well, stay if you want. I’m kinda lonely.” He awkwardly laughed, looking away from Matthew’s eyes. It got quiet for a few seconds, and he started to walk out. But as his hand went to the doorknob, he paused. 

“Why…” Was there any reason to ask him? What would he say? What did he expect him to say, anyway? Still, closure sounded like a comforting thing at the moment, when he was standing next to the only person who even had a chance of giving an honest answer, so he asked, somewhat softly, “why did you do it?” 

“I didn’t even want to!” Juan shouted, “I just didn’t want to be thrown out for not doing what they say!”

“…So you’re blaming your partners?” He crossed his arms, “You didn’t have to do anything. You have free will.”

“No! I don’t! And I never did!” Juan wiped his eyes harshly, “If I refused to look over you, or talked back to them, they’d get mad! You don’t know what bandits do when they’re mad!” He slammed his fist down at his side.

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“A-and I,” Juan wiped at his eyes again, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for being such a fucking coward.” 

“…” Matthew opened his mouth then closed it. “Why did you start a fight with him if you were scared of him?”

“…I guess he just went too far.” Juan sighed, and rubbed his face, then jerked his hand away with a muttered ‘ow’, “but looking back on it, I wasn’t too nice myself.” 

“I take it something happened to your parents?” Matthew asked.

Juan squinted at him. “How did you…”

“Oh, I heard some women and Eduardo arguing about it, saying that he mentioned parents first, so it wasn’t entirely your fault,” he clarified.

“Fern said that, right?” Juan said, “she usually takes my side, yeah.”

“What’d she do to get in jail?” Matthew asked offhandedly.

“She tried to break Eduardo outta jail and got caught.”

“That fast? You’ve only been here for a day or so.”

Juan shrugged and looked away, “she’s loyal to a fault. Most’a the time.”

Matthew took a seat on the bench that mirrored Juan’s, “so…what got you into being a bandit, anyways?”

Juan paused for a while, picking at the frayed seams on his bluejeans, “my parents died, and I had to make money somehow. I wasn’t any good at farming, or anything like that, and…I dunno. At the time, it felt so much easier. I wish I never started, though.” 

Matthew nodded, and at the lack of anything to add to the conversation, seeing as both his parents were alive and it was just now dawning on him that other people lived very drastically different lives than him, he decided to be polite. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.” Juan said, slumping even further into his chair.

“…You’re not as awful of a person as I thought you’d be,” Matthew said. 

“Thanks.”

“…How long until they put you back into that other room, with the other criminals?” 

“I doubt I’ll be sticking around long enough to know.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m part of a gang of thieves, Matt,” Juan glared weakly at the knees that showed through the torn parts of his pants, “we’ll be hanged.”

The nickname startled Matthew, since only his younger sister had ever called him that before, and even that was just when they were alone. To hear it shortened so casually was…odd.

He shifted in his seat, “that’s…too bad.”

“Yup.” 

The air in the room had turned heavy, and Matthew got up and headed for the door. 

“Goodbye. I hope God has mercy on you; you don’t seem bad at heart, just weak.”

“Bye.”

~

Matthew didn’t know where he wanted to go. There weren’t many places to choose from in such a small town, but he figured there had to be something other than the bar or the prison. He decided to head to his hotel room.

It was cooler inside, since Matthew got the only room with air conditioning on account that he was a prince. Though it did nothing to counteract the light beating down on him from the open window. He shut the curtains and lied down on his bed, facing the ceiling. There was still enough light for him to easily see, but he closed his eyes, and pretended he was back at home, hearing the rain crash against his window in the black pitch of night. 

He rested his arm over his eyes, wondering what he was going to do next.

Juan hadn’t been mean to him when Matthew was captured; on the contrary, he had tried to make conversation and make the place as comfortable as possible. He did something rash as a child and got stuck with a bad group, but he did seem like he had the potential to be something good. Maybe everyone had that potential.

“Ugh, what am I doing?” Matthew said aloud to himself, rolling over so he now faced the wall, “that man doesn’t deserve to die, he was merely,” he rolled his hand above his head, “a victim of circumstance. I mean, if I had to choose between my own well-being and that of someone I didn’t know, I’d probably choose myself to–”

“Er,” Edward coughed outside the door, “may I come in with your suitcase?”

“What are you talking about, my things are already in here,” Matthew asked, his embarrassment for being caught talking to himself overshadowed by his confusion.

“No, it’s an empty one. You’re leaving tomorrow, did no one tell you?” Edward said, opening the door and walking in.

“Oh, um, no, actually,” Matthew said, sitting up, “no one told me.”

“It’s for the best, you know. We can’t have you staying in an unsafe environment for any longer.” He set the suitcase on the floor, “be up and ready by sunset, then we’ll head to the docks.” 

“Alright. See you then.”

“Make sure to get some sleep.” Edward said, “your father wanted you back home as soon as possible, so you’ll be disguised as a normal person on a regular boat.” 

“What?” Matthew jumped off the bed, “I’ll have to sleep where everyone else does? And wear what everyone else does–act like everyone else does?”

“Well, yes,” Edward said, “truly, it isn’t that hard.”

“But what about the way I talk? Or the way I stand?” Matthew squared his shoulders for emphasis. “Or what about my face? As the most attractive of England’s princes, people will recognize me.”

“Not if you’re in plain clothes and make even a minute effort to conceal your face.” 

“But-”

“Prince, stop!” Edward glared, then softened his expression as he realized his harsh tone, “I…I am only delivering your father’s orders. You are to come back to England by boat as a commoner so as not to arouse questions until we get everything sorted out. And I won’t hear anything else about it.” He set the empty suitcase down and opened the door to leave.

“Wait!” Matthew said, “what will happen to Juan?”

Edward blinked. “Who, pardon?”

“Juan. One of the bandits that kidnapped me.”

“Oh…” Edward said, “um…I assume he’ll be hanged in a few days, why do you ask?”

“Oh, well…” Why did he ask? There was no real reason for him to care about one of the bandits who kidnapped him, even if he did have a decent-enough reason for doing so. But something about the look in his eyes when he was talking to him, the clear regret that he shouldn’t have let his mistake go this far…it jerked at his chest. He deserved a second chance…

But how to convey that to Edward?

Matthew had to be able to get Juan out of the jail so he wouldn’t be hanged, that was obvious. And Matthew could do it by…

“Since the crime was so personal to me,” Matthew started, hoping an idea would form as he spoke, as it sometimes would, “I would like to have Juan come back to England with me, so I could…throw him in the dungeons in England, on my own turf.” 

“…” Edward blinked again, “you…okay. I suppose we could find a place for him on the boat, but…weren’t there three criminals?” 

“What? Oh–oh yes, that’s what I meant. I simply only remembered Juan’s name.”

“Oh. Okay then. Bye,” Edward waved and left the room.

As Matthew sat in his room, alone once more, he thought about what he said. Juan being in the dungeons isn’t going to help him become a better person…maybe he’d just have to break him out? Or…maybe he’d insist on being the one to ‘torture’ him, when they’d really just talk together, both safe and completely unharmed? He’d think of something, but as of then one thing was for sure–Juan wasn’t going to get hanged anytime soon.


	2. Chapter two

Thompson unlocked the door and walked into the cell, putting handcuffs on Juan, and began to walk out. 

“Hey, wait!” Juan pulled back on Thompson’s grip, “I don’t want to go back to the cell with Eduardo, he’ll kill me!” 

“Calm down,” Thompson rolled his eye, “you’re not going back to that cell, you an’ your friends are goin’ to a different cell on a boat to England. You’ll be separated there and on the ride there, ‘a course.”

“Huh?” Juan said as he was escorted out of his cell and into the larger, main cell. 

“What’s going on?” Fern asked Juan as she saw him.

“How would I know?” Juan asked.

“Because if it’s a boat to England, than it prolly has something to do with the Prince, who’s also boardin’ a ship to England. Who you talked to just a day ago.” She crossed her arms.

“Oh…” Juan tried to think of exactly what Matthew told him, “I don’t think he said anythin’ ‘bout this.” 

“Hey, what’s the meaning of this!?” Eduardo shouted from outside the jail. “Where’re you takin’ me!?”

“Shit-” Thompson ran outside, pulling Juan with him, “what’s goin-”

“Juan! Did you do this?” Eduardo yelled, with Edward holding him in handcuffs. 

“No!” Juan said, “I don’t even know what’s goin’ on!”

“If I get hurt in any way cause’a you, I swear.” Eduardo glared with all his might.

“We’re both gonna get hanged no matter where we are, so save it!” Juan glared right back.

“Y yo, no me olvides.” Marco rolled his eye as he was lead onto the carriage that would bring him to the docks. Then he added, more quietly, “Aunque sé que lo harás.” 

“Okay, well, either way you three’ve gotta go,” Thompson turned to Edward, “have Eduardo sit in the other section, since Juan doesn’t have any problems with the blond one.” 

“Why do I have to be alone?” Eduardo asked.

“Because I was already alone, now we have to switch! Plus, you don’t even like Marco!” Juan said.

“El rubio? De Verdad?“ Marco said.

“Shut up!” Thompson shouted, “ya’ll er’ actin’ like a buncha’ schoolgirls, I swear! You’ll get in there, sit where we tell ya to, and wait ‘till we get to the docks! Then, when ya do get there, you damn well better follow orders. Understand?”

They all nodded. 

“Good,” Thompson sighed, “Edward, ima go back to my office; think you can handle the rest?”

“Of course.”

“Well…it was nice workin’ with ya.” Thompson held out his hand.

Edward took it, “I won’t forget to write. But goodbye for now.”

Thompson nodded and walked off towards his office. Edward watched him go for a couple of seconds.

“Okay, you get in here,” he told Juan, and Juan climbed in, sitting next to Marco. Then Edward turned to Eduardo, “you’ll be in this part of the—”

“It’s stupid I have to be the one in the separate—”

“Would you like to sit in a small room with a person you hate for the next few weeks, or be alone?” Edward glared at Eduardo as he walked.

Eduardo said nothing until they got to where he was supposed to go. Then, as he was climbing in, he said, “Maybe this isn’t the worst arrangement after all; now I won’t have to hear Juan’s dumbass voice every fuckin’ secon—”

Edward closed the carriage door, and walked to the front of it, sitting next to the coachman. 

“I take it we’re headin’ to the docks?” The coachman asked.

“Yes.” Edward nodded, as he picked up a book from his luggage and opened it. It was about a sheriff in a small town who could see three days into the future. Edward thought about how Thompson might like it.

~

After the long boat ride, Matthew stepped out onto the British soil. Or, rather, the British wood of the British docks. 

“Am I allowed to go change into more suitable clothing or will I forever have to suffer in these rags?” Matthew huffed, as he fell into step next to Edward.

“You’re dressed in the clothing of a very wealthy man, so it could’ve been worse,” he suppressed an eye roll, “but yes, you will be able to change, just as soon as we arrive at the hotel.” 

“Ugh!” Matthew loudly exclaimed, attracting a few stares from passersby, “I can’t believe this.”

“Soon, it’ll be over,” Edward said, “hopefully.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“This isn’t terribly fun for me, either, you know,” Edward stared ahead as he walked, “hearing you complain so bloody often.”

“You have no right talking to me that way!” Matthew said, “I’m a prince!”

“I’m aware.” Edward nearly growled, then took a deep breath, and said, “just…know that it will be over soon, okay?”

Matthew looked over at the boat they just got off of, then the skyline, anything but Edward’s eyes.

Edward sighed, “we’ll get on another carriage and ride until sunset, then we’ll stop at a hotel called the ‘Knight Inn’. I hope that’s to your liking, because it’s the one your father already paid for.”

Still Matthew said nothing.

Edward continued, “once you settle into your suite, we can discuss the matter of those bandits.”

“Oh, yes, them,” Matthew had been ignoring what he was going to say about them. He didn’t particularly care about what happened to the two who weren’t Juan, since they were the ones who actually kidnapped him, but he worried what would happen to Juan himself. If he was going to the dungeons, he would surely be tortured, but Matthew couldn’t bear the thought of that. At least Juan was nice to him while he was held captive, he didn’t deserve to get punished as harshly as the others. Maybe he could… “about them.”

“…Yes?” Edward asked, “what about them?”

“Well…uh…” Matthew trailed off, nothing to say coming to mind.

“…I was going to say that we would discuss what would happen to them. Did you have anything to add?” His tone wasn’t rude, but curious or confused.

“Yes, um, you see,” Matthew searched his brain for something to say, “I, uh…wanted to send them to the dungeons, um, myself.”

“…You mean, torture them yourself?” Edward squinted, something unreadable in his eyes.

“Yes, exactly!” Matthew said, relieved he finally found a point, “it was very personal to me, you see, so, I’d like to deliver them their punishment myself.”

“…Alright, then.” Edward said. 

When the carriage rolled up to them, after 20 or so minutes of walking, they climbed in, and didn’t speak until they arrived at the hotel. 

The Knight Inn was almost like a small castle, which made Matthew all the more excited to arrive there. It had murky, still waters in the front that reflected the many levels and windows of the tall building. In the sunset, it was all painted red. 

“One hundred shillings, please,” the coachman demanded as they pulled up to the hotel. 

“What?” Edward asked, “that’s a preposterous amount!”

“Why are you angry, it’s the king’s money,” he shrugged.

“I could have you arrested for treason!” Matthew said, glad he could finally throw his weight around again.

“No you couldn’t.” The coachman smiled and held out his hand, “and it’s 120 shillings now.” 

Edward grumbled as he paid it, and watched the man drive off.

“Coachman? More like a go-out, I swear.” Edward said to himself as they walked to the hotel check in.

“Yes, he was simply atrocious. Taking advantage of innocent people.” He stopped when he got to the desk where the hotel worker was. 

“Yes, hello, we have-”

“Oh, yes, your room is ready!” The man shot out of his seat and ran up to escort them to the stairs, “the suite is on the top floor, I hope it accommodates to your every need.”

“I’m sure it will,” Edward read the man’s name tag, “Wilson.”

“May I take your bags for you?” Wilson asked.

“Oh, of course!” Edward handed them to him, and they began walking up the stairs. 

~

When they finally arrived at the royal castle a few days later, he was met by his mother enveloping him in a hug. 

“Oh! I was so worried!” She kisses him all over his face, “my little baby boy! My angel!” 

“Thank you, thank you,” Matthew tried to lightly push her away, “I missed you too.”

“Oh, I’m never letting you leave this castle again, for fear of something happening to you!” the Queen pulled back and looked her son over, just to make absolutely sure he was real, and hugged him again.

The rest of the day was barely memorable. His father came down to teach him in the ways of battle strategy and economics. Matthew would’ve thought his father had actually forgotten about him getting kidnapped if he hadn’t added something extra to his homework notes- “please be more careful the next time you travel out of our sight. We don’t want to lose you.” It was a sweet gesture, and it resonated with him in an odd way. 

His father was never the type to verbally tell him that he had done something good, or that he was proud of him, or even that he loved him. He just never said it. But at least this showed he cared, in some small way.

Matthew suddenly wished his mother were there to hug him. 

He rushed to his room and set his papers down on his desk, collapsing onto his bed. There was a knock at his door.

“Yes?” Matthew asked, reaching a hand up to smooth his hair.

“Detective Edward Gold said you wanted to torture the bandits yourself?” John, one of Matthew’s best butlers, asked, “they’re here now, and your father’s going to teach you how to-”

“Oh!” A small sweat appeared on his forehead. How to convince him that he didn’t want to actually hurt them? “I can do it myself, but tell my father I said thank you for the offer.” 

“Uh- are you certain, because-”

“Yes, yes, of course!” He sat up and opened the door, “are they already in the dungeons?” 

“Yes, your highness,” John said, with his arms placed politely behind his back. “Would you like me to show you to them?”

“No, thank you, I’ll be alright-”

“Your father insisted,” John said, stopping him from walking past him with one hand on his shoulder.

Matthew looked back at him. He was already going against his father’s—the king’s—wishes for him; he could go along with this.

“Of course, how silly of me. Go on,” he said, letting John lead him down to the dungeons as he fell into step behind him.

As they were walking, taking nearly nonsensical twists and turns, Matthew silently was grateful that John had stopped him and became his guide. 

Sometimes, like when Matthew was little and he and his sister would play tag or cops and robbers or some other childhood game, he found the vastness of the palace that he lived in quite astounding. It truly felt like anything could be accomplished in the mystery of unopened doors. Now, however, as they arrived at the downward slope of stairs that led directly into the dungeons, he couldn’t help but find it daunting. It was like a big prison, with many rooms and decorative dead ends. Not to mention the fact that since he was royalty someone would always be following him, under the guise of ‘showing him the way’. And while that was reassuring when he was a child, it felt rather off-putting now that he was an adult, like a shirt he once loved but had since outgrown, but still had to wear, no matter how much he thought about just clawing it off, blood stains and all.

As John took a torch off of a nearby wall to light the way, Matthew wondered if he could maybe run past him, loose him in the darkness, and walk the rest of the way there himself. But even if he did succeed in that, John would tell his father, and he’d get lectured about safety and respecting authority. Plus, they were almost there, anyways. 

Matthew coughed into his elbow.

“Getting sick, your highness?”

“No, no,” Matthew said, “it’s that smoke; do you have to keep it so close to my face?” 

“It’s not nearly close enough to burn you, and you have to see,” John explained, “besides, there’s no need to worry, seeing as we’re about to arrive.”

They came up to a thick black door, with many thick black locks attached to it. John took out his keys and opened each lock except for the biggest one. Right as his key was poised to go in, he turned to Matthew. 

“The first one holds a man named Juan, whom you’ve apparently taken a special interest to? Or at least that’s what Detective Gold said. And at the far right corner of that room lays a door, which holds the other man, and so on with the third. 

“They are already tied to a chair, and should be awake by now. I don’t think he would’ve been able to get out of the ropes, but you never know with newcomers. So, even though you’ve requested to do this alone, I do want to check and make sure-”

“No,” Matthew said firmly, “I’ll be fine, thank you.” 

John looked down at the key in his hand. He sighed to himself, unlocked it, and pushed it open, peering in to see the bandit on the other side of the room, still sleeping. 

“As you wish, your highness.” he turned and handed him the keys and the torch, stepping aside so he could walk in, “but if you happen to change your mind-”

“Thank you, sir,” Matthew took the keys and walked in, shutting the door behind him. 

As he gets closer to Juan, each step creaking loudly and echoing against the high walls, he notices a table a few yards away. On it laid razors and hammers and pliers and all sorts of things that made Matthew’s stomach crawl. Swallowing something down, he placed the torch above the table on the latch. 

He turned towards Juan, and suddenly wondered what he’d gotten them all into. No doubt Juan was scared out of his mind when he was told he was going to be sent…here. If he was even told at all. Maybe he was meant to be surprised when he woke up and found himself in a pitch black room, surrounded with nothing but bloody contraptions and rotting gore. 

Matthew quickly thought about all the other people in the dungeons, most of whom he’d never met, and all of whom certainly didn’t deserve to live out the rest of their days in a place like this, but immediately pushed the thought away. He had to focus on the matter at hand, on talking to Juan about how they were going to get him out of there. Matthew leaned back and looked up at the tall ceiling, shrouded completely from any light. What if something happened one day and a guard walked in and noticed they all looked completely normal? Or if his father decided he wanted to check his son’s handiwork? 

Everything would fall apart. And the worst thing about it was that he wouldn’t even be able to explain why he’d done it. His father already looked down upon him for always doing poorly in his studies, so telling him that he only accidentally sent them to the dungeons because he didn’t want them to die would only further his disappointment. And Matthew was already so worried he’d disappoint his father…

Matthew looked down back at Juan. His neck was curved forward in an uncomfortable looking angle and his shoulder length hair completely covered his eyes. He was still sleeping, undoubtedly. 

Since Matthew only had a limited amount of time to spend there, he snapped his fingers in front of Juan’s face. He blinked at the sound and his eyes focused groggily, then he pressed his body against the chair as hard as he could. 

“Ugh…” He said, voice hoarse from lack of water, “don’t…” his eyes drifted over to the most illuminated place in the room, the table full of tools. “Don’t…” 

“Oh, Juan,” Matthew said, as tears began to bloom in the Juan’s eyes, “you’re not-”

“Please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Juan burst into tears, the rest of his words getting caught somewhere between his dried throat and his sore eyes. 

“I’m not going to-” Matthew said, and Juan jerked away from his hand as he tried to wipe his tears away, “you don’t have to fear me! I’m not going to hurt you.”

“So you…why am I even here?” Juan asked.

“Because, though you are a coward, I did not believe you deserved death.” 

“So…I’m just gonna stay here for the rest of my life, doing nothing?”

“Well…perhaps I didn’t think it through as much as I could have, but it is better than dying, right?”

“I mean…” he shrugged, “I guess.”

A silence passed through them for a short time.

“How long have I been here?” Juan asked.

“Oh, I’m not sure, but if this is the first time you’re waking up, it’s probably only been a day.”

“Are you ever gonna break us outta here?” 

“Uh…” it was a good question, “I’m not sure how I would do that, in all honesty.”

“So we’re really just stayin’ here forever?” Juan looked deflated.

“Well…” Matthew decided to go back to his usual method- talk first, think later. “Perhaps I could find a way.” 

“Really?” Juan perked up.

“Indubitably.” He smiled, trying to mask his doubt.

“That’s great! When?”

“…I will let you know when it happens, okay?” Matthew’s mind raced for a plan, but there wasn’t one. There were people bustling to and from every hour of every day, there would always be someone just over their shoulder…how could he find a time to sneak them all out of there? 

“Thanks! I hope it’s soon, it looks like it gets really lonely here. And dark.” Juan’s eyes flickered over to the torch, still burning with a fervent heat. But all things die out.

“Ah, that reminds me, I have to go,” Matthew turned and reached for the torch, then retracted his hand. Might as well let him have light, if only for a little while. He’ll be able to see well enough to find his way back.

“Oh? Right now?” Juan asked.

“Er, yes, I have to, uh, plan for your escape,” Matthew nodded, smiled, and speed-walked back to the door. Sweat began to pool in his collar as he headed towards his room, the long trek giving him time to collect his thoughts and ideas on how to get them out of there. 

At some point, though, he got turned around, and found himself in a vaguely familiar hallway. Before he could really think about where he was, his sister walked by, looking down at the floor dejectedly.

“Hello,” Matthew gave a quick glance over his shoulder, “Adelia. Why do you look so stressed?”

“Oh,” she fiddled with the cuffs of her shirt, “just another ‘lesson’ from father. Apparently I’ve been choosing too many ‘loud and feminine’ colors for my clothes lately.” Her shoulders were slumped, “sometimes I think he suspects something…”

Matthew held out his arms for a hug, which Adelia accepted. He patted her hair, a short mess of curls she got from her mother. 

She pulled away, and sniffled, “I’m just worried-” her gaze flickered to a butler, looking at them from across the hall.

The man jerked his head away, and pretended to be fully engrossed in a painting on the wall. 

“…Let’s talk in your old room.” She whispered, and they walked into it, the name ‘Matthew’ engraved into the door with beautiful calligraphy. It would have every right to be seen by royalty except for the dust and scratches that made it bedraggled. 

Adelia sat down on the bed, at the other end of the room, while Matthew closed the curtains. 

“I’m worried…what if he finds out about me?” Her lip quivered as she felt water prick her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands, hunching her shoulders so they nearly touched her ears and shuffling to the very corner of the bed. 

“Oh, sister,” he put emphasis on the word as he moved to sit next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and very softly swayed, and it reminded both of them of when they were children. They’d run down these halls, try and climb their bed frames, anything they could think of. It was before their responsibility, before their confusion, and before their fear. “I’ll always be here for you.” He enunciated each word clearly.

She laughed dryly through her sobs, “not if he disowns me.”

“No, he wouldn’t do that, it would be far too big a scandal.”

“He would,” she responded without hesitation, “I’m not the eldest. There would be another to take the throne.”

“…You’re my sister, Adelia. And…I’d abdicate with you.” 

Adelia pulled away, and stared at him, confused, “…surely you know you don’t have to say that.”

“Oh, but I’d want to,” he continued to look her in the eye, “you’re my sister, Adelia. I love you. Plus, lately I’ve felt rather…disillusioned with our family as of late.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m not sure I want to continue protecting the family name.” He said, resting his forehead on his palms, his body slumped forward. 

Adelia’s eyes were wide, “pardon my manners, but where did this come from? Whatever happened to staying here for our safety? It’s not like other places will accept us more.” 

“But it’s the principle of it!” Matthew raised his voice and slammed a fist down on his knee, “we’ve stayed in the dark too long! I want to be able to love whomever I choose, and for you to be who you are! Their practices have gone on far too long!”

“Brother, this is all very impulsive-”

“No, dear sister, it is long overdue!” His shoulders relax but he somehow looked more stressed, “I…I went to the dungeons earlier today. And…people are there.”

“…Why were you in the dungeons?” Adelia asked.

“Well…” Matthew explained what happened, “and when I walked in there I could hardly take it. I just…don’t want to be a part of a system that does that anymore. And also…I see you every day, when someone calls you by that certain name or title, and I know you could be so much more. You’ve waited far too long, and you deserve to not have to wait anymore. And I deserve it too.” 

“…That’s quite a speech,” Adelia said, calmly, “but we could never survive on our own. Where would we live, for instance?”

“You could live with me, I wouldn’t mind sharing a room with you! It could be like when we were children!” Matthew smiled, “we could get a little cottage in the forest with a library and a museum, and everything would be marvelous.” He put his hands on her shoulders, “I could buy you dresses, you could shave, and everything would be perfect.”

“Now where would you get the money to do that?”

“Well, uh…” now that he thought of it, he didn’t really have too many skills that would qualify him for a job. He’d had extensive war strategy, economics, and etiquette lessons his whole life, but what job would have those qualifications other than being king? The only thing he really had going for him was his looks, or at least, that’s what Matthew always figured, since it was really the only thing he was ever complimented on. “I’d think of something.”

She sighed, “that wouldn’t work. Neither of us could survive without them.”

“I could ask my friends for help!” 

Adelia squinted at him, “you mean the duke of Italy?”

“What? No, Edward Gold! The detective who rescued me! We’re on excellent terms and I have a hunch he’d help us.”

“Really? Why do you think that?”

“Well…” Matthew thought back, and didn’t really have any evidence that Edward would be supportive of his sister being born a male. “I know a very big secret of his. If he doesn’t help us, I could always threaten to leak it to the press.”

“No, no, then I’d feel awful,” she shook her head, “I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Well…then we could move in with his brother, Eddins! He’s a successful poet, and I’m sure he’d help us if we needed it!”

“How do you know that?”

“Well, one time when I was talking about something father was telling me, about how he wanted to crack down on crossdressers, Eddins rolled his eyes and said he should just leave them be, and that they weren’t doing any harm.” 

“I’m not just a crossdresser,” she said, quietly, “it’s more than that, you know.”

“I do. Trust me, he’ll respect you.” Matthew assured her, “he’s really quite open minded, you’ll find. Honestly, I should introduce you to him regardless of whether or not we go through with this.”

“Oh, I don’t think I could,” she said, “it would be too much of an undertaking, we’d have to hide, if-”

A knock sounded on the door, and they both froze. They shouldn’t have been talking so loudly, they shouldn’t have been discussing this at all, it was foolish of them and, no, of course it would never happen again.

“A telegram for Prince Matthew, your highness.” The voice sounded even, not angry or shocked. 

“Coming!” Matthew got up and opened the door. “Thank you.” 

The man saluted and walked away. 

Matthew closed the door and read the telegram aloud as he walked back to his seat. 

“Dear Son, Matthew, I heard you wanted to take responsibility and do the dirty work yourself. While I’m glad you finally decided to take initiative, it is imperative that you never again make a decision that big without my permission. Tomorrow at 6am sharp, after a good night’s rest, we’ll go down to the dungeons and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way. Do not arrive any later. Love, your father.” Matthew gulped. “Oh no, we have so little time!” 

Adelia sighed deeply, “well…I think I might have a way to finally put all this talk into action. Though if it doesn’t work…do you really want to risk everything for these people? One of them may not have been as bad as he could’ve been, but they still…weren’t the best people overall.”

“I do. I can’t just let them be tortured! Even if they are criminals, they still don’t deserve that.” 

“…You’re right, but what if we fail? What if we fail and we still have to fulfill our duties? What if we fail and people no longer like us, or attack us? What if we fail and we still have to sit down with our parents for dinner, and face that silence.” Adelia had a few unshed tears in her eyes.

Matthew squeezed her shoulder, “we won’t. We’ll get them out, we’ll live alone, and we’ll be self-sustaining. Live as our true selves. It’ll be perfect, trust me.”

“…Alright. I’ll help you,” she smiled and said, “now, we have some shift schedules to study.” 

~

After a few hours spent looking over the schedules of the people guarding the dungeons, they found a man who owed Adelia a favor. They sent him a note saying that he and his wife, a woman who was the head of the royal family’s laundry services, needed to go back to their house for the rest of the week. And without the woman to give the other laundry workers orders, everyone in the laundry department decided to leave early that day, figuring they might as well. 

When they were sure the two would be gone, they broke into the laundry room, and changed into worker clothes. 

Adelia looked between the male uniform, a white shirt with black tie and pants, and the female one, a brown dress with a white apron around it. 

Matthew handed her the dress as he buttoned his shirt, “it’s okay. You deserve it. And trust me, sister; you’ll look smashing.” 

Adelia smiled and threw the dress on. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Of course.”

Adelia scooped up three outfits and put them in a large purse, and they began running to the dungeons. 

It took them about half an hour, but they arrived at the dungeon. Matthew took a deep breath, pulled out his key, and opened the door. 

As they walked closer to Juan, he picked up a torch from the wall and held it out in front of them, leading the way through the darkness as the torches grew fewer and farther between. 

“M-Matthew? Is that you?” Juan said, the new light piercing his eyes, the old torch beside him having already died out hours before, “who’s that?” 

“My sister Adelia,” Matthew said firmly, offering no argument, “We’re going to break you and your friends out.”

“Oh?” Juan looked Adelia over. After a second, he smiled, “thanks ma'am! Or- your highness?”

“Ma’am for now, thank you,” she said, making sure her voice was as high as it could be. That paired with her dress made her feel very giddy indeed.

“Okay!” Juan said.

Matthew took one of the blades off the table and cut the ropes that bound him, replacing the old torch with the new one on the wall to free up his hands.

Juan stood up and rubbed his arms, stretching them above his head in a circle. 

“Right, well, where are the others again?” Adelia asked.

“I think they’re in the rooms behind that door,” Juan said, pointing to a door in the corner. “And, um, how much time do we have, exactly?” 

“About four hours if I remember correctly,” Adelia said, “so put this on quickly.” She hands him a laundry worker’s outfit.

“O-oh, you’re welcome!” Juan smiled as he rushed to put on the clothes, “and thank you! I never thought I’d meet a princess!” 

Matthew picked up the torch from the wall again. “Let us go, then.” 

Juan’s stomach growled as they walked over to the second door. He wrapped his arms around it, crossing them tightly.

The same key worked on the second door, thankfully, and it kicked up a heavy layer of dust.

A shadowy figure could be seen the farther they got into the room. 

“Who-who are you?” Said a shaky voice, no longer commanding. “Don’t come near me!”

“It’s alright, Eduardo!” Juan said cautiously, walking behind Matthew, “we’re gonna leave, okay?”

“…Juan…?” A sniffle.

When they got close enough to define his features, Eduardo squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting them to see the stains of tears that drenched his cheeks.

“Oh, Eduardo,” Juan bent down and hugged him, “it’s gonna be okay.” 

Eduardo, still being tied to the chair, simply leaned into Juan, pressing his eyes against his collar to soak up his tears.

Matthew set the torch in the latch and began working on cutting his binds. There were more here than there were for Juan; he must’ve struggled.

Juan pulled away so Matthew could have an easier time doing his job. 

“Oh, thank you, Juan,” Matthew said. “Adelia, could you go into the third room and, uh,” Matthew looks up and tries to see the door. He does, and it’s in the middle of the wall next to them, maybe 50 yards away, “cut the binds of the third one?”

“Of course,” her voice dropped a few octaves since she wasn’t thinking about how her voice would sound, and she cringed internally. But she was used to it, so she placed some clothes next to Eduardo on the floor and began to walk to the other room.

“Hey, why’s that dude wearing a skirt?” Eduardo asked Juan, lowering his voice so she wouldn’t hear.

“You will refer to her as ‘she’.” Matthew said, scraping away at the rope more roughly. 

“…Okay,” Eduardo rolled his eyes, “I just don’t see why I should.”

“Eduardo,” Juan rubbed his neck, “she doesn’t have anything to do with Laurel, okay? Don’t be rude to her just because you can’t get over things.” 

“That’s not-”

“She has nothing to do with this, okay?” Juan asserted, “They’re only similar because they’re both…a little different from most people. Just because that reminds you of Laurel having to move away doesn’t mean-”

“All done,” Matthew stepped away as the ropes fell to the ground. 

Eduardo shakily stood up, having to rely on Juan for support. “…Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll go check on Adelia.” Matthew said, and walked to the other room. 

“…Sorry for talking about your parents,” Eduardo mumbled.

“Huh?” Juan said, “oh, way back then? Eddie, it’s okay. It was weeks ago, and I wouldn’t still be mad at you after all this.” He reached out and held Eduardo’s hands.

“…Thanks,” Eduardo nearly whispered, giving Juan’s hands a light squeeze, “but…when we were fighting…you did have a point. And…look, I’m just really-”

“Not to break up anything personal, but we really do need to be going,” Adelia said, walking out with Matthew and Marco, “we not only have to be out of the palace in three hours time, but also far enough away to get a headstart on the guards.”

“The guards?” Juan asked, walking over to Marco to stand next to him.

“Yes, they’ll surely try to capture us.” Adelia said as she began to head out, “especially since Matthew is first in line for the throne and we haven’t officially abdicated yet.”

“Why would you two even want to do that?” Eduardo asked, quickly putting the clothes on.

“I’ve been thinking about it for some time now.” Adelia said, voice more tired than the shadows of the halls that surrounded them. 

When Eduardo finished, they began walking.

“Well, what about you?” Juan abandoned Marco to walk next to Matthew, “why do you want to leave your position?” 

They walked through the door, “I’m not leaving my sister alone to fend for herself.”

“Aw, that’s sweet a’ you,” Juan said. “Have ya thought about where you’ll live yet?” 

“Er, well,” Matthew started as they walked through the other door and out into the open. 

Adelia blew the torch out and continued to lead the way up the stairs. 

“Let me do the talking, Matthew,” Adelia whispered to him, “your voice is too recognizable.” 

Matthew nodded, making a key turning motion in front of his face. 

When they eventually got to the main exit, a guard stopped them.

“Too many workers have already left today,” he paused to cough, “you’ll need to stay here unless you want the laundry to really pile up.” His grizzly voice was a deep baritone, and his tall red guardsmen hat stood straight atop his head. His eyes were sunken in, and he had the kind of cough you could hear a mile away.

“Today is a holiday, sir.” Adelia spoke, her voice sounding almost nothing like her normal one, except for a little nasally tinge, “why did you think all the others went?”

The guard squinted at her, “I wasn’t made aware of any holidays.” 

Adelia stood tall, and said firmly, “well, my friends and I simply wish to celebrate with the others.”

“Watch your manners, girl,” the guardsman glared, keeping his feet planted.

“Hm?” Adelia furrowed her brow.

“Um, excuse me sir,” Juan stepped forward, “but it’s a kind of party you might enjoy yourself.”

“Oh?” The guardsman asked, giving a smug look, “what kind of party is this, now?”

“Well,” Juan began to sweat, but still leaned in as he spoke softer, “it’s to discuss our pay. It’s not the same, you know.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be, not entirely.” His voice was still stern, but he kept it quiet to, “my job’s certainly harder than yours.”

“But for us laundry people,” the guard raised his eyebrows when Juan said that, “we hardly get paid enough to both afford rent and food at the same time. Not even mentioning how hard the women have to work for less pay.”

“…You know,” the guardsman scratched under his hat, “it has been getting harder and harder for all of our children to eat every night. My wife has to work too, and after we pay the nanny and all other expenses, sometimes there’s hardly enough money to buy bread.” 

Juan nodded empathetically, “‘M sorry to hear that. But we need your help especially. The more friends we have higher up, the easier it’ll be to negotiate. So, will you let us go to the ‘party’?”

“…Of course.” The guardsman stepped to the side and let them pass.

Chill air smashed their noses as they left the palace. “How’d you do that?” Eduardo asked.

“Do what?” Juan asked, wishing he had a coat to tighten around him.

“Convince him to let us out?” Eduardo said.

“Si, fue realmente impresionante,” Marco added.

“It was nothin’, really,” Juan shrugged, “I could tell he looked tired, an’…I dunno. I figured it was a safe guess, I guess.”

“…” Matthew had his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the floor as he trudged along behind the rest of the group with his sister. “Adelia?”

“Yes?” Her voice had the same quiet tone.

“Did our parents ever have to struggle for food? Or for anything?” He knew the answer. 

“No. No I wouldn’t think so.” 

Matthew sighed. “I…we…what are you going to do first, when we get our own house?” He smiled at her to go along with the change in topic.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Adelia grinned up at the stars, “maybe I’ll learn how to sew my own dresses. Or get some pets, finally!”

“We have pets.”

“No, I mean like mutts, dogs that are allowed to go outside and play in the mud!” Adelia nodded, “I’ve thought about it for awhile, and I think I want a big, brown dog, as big as a horse, with short fur so it won’t shed too much, and so it’ll be easier to clean after it goes outside!” 

“Well, I’m not washing it,” Matthew said, “I do not like dirt.”

“Then I will, considering how it’ll be my dog.” Adelia said, “oh, it’ll be like how I always wanted. Mostly.” Her smile turns a bit bittersweet.

Matthew wrapped his arm around her shoulder, “I’m sure we could find a doctor who’d-”

“Um,” Juan turned and said, “where are we going to sleep tonight?” 

“Uh…” Matthew looked to Adelia, “I’m not…I didn’t really…”

“You said something earlier about Edward or Eddins being okay with helping us out?” Adelia remembered.

“Well, yes, but I’m not quite sure they’d love having five new semi-permanent guests rather than just two.”

“It would only be temporary,” Eduardo pointed out. “Trust me, I don’t wanna live in someone else’s house any longer than I have to.”

“Yeah! I wanna get a job as soon as possible and get a place of my own,” Juan said.

“Wait, that reminds me,” Matthew said, and began in a more serious tone, “you ex-bandits aren’t going to go back to your old ways right after you get settled, are you?” 

“Never!” Juan crossed his heart.

“No después de todo esto.” Marco shivered, still shocked he even managed to get out of that situation. 

“Yeah, sure,” Eduardo laughed, “why not give it a go?”

“Eduardo…” Juan looked expectantly at Eduardo, and when he got nothing, he continued, “I want you to promise you’ll turn your life around.”

“I already said I’d try.” He rolled his eyes.

“Just do it for me, okay?”

“Ha! Why should I do it for you?” He crossed his arms.

“Because…because I won’t help you if you decide to go back to stealing.” Juan said sternly, “I don’t wanna do it anymore. So…I won’t. Even if you do; I won’t follow you.”

Eduardo searched Juan’s face for a second. Finally, he looked away to the ground and said, “yeah. Yeah, alright, I’ll be good.”

“Really? That’s great!” Juan hugged him. While this startled Eduardo, he decided to pat the other’s shoulder lightly and awkwardly, before shoving him away.

“…So, where is Edward’s house anyways?” Adelia asked Matthew.

“Uh…” Matthew said, “I suppose we’ll simply have to ask some coachmen or something and hope they don’t recognize us.” 

“They probably won’t, since that guard didn’t.” Juan said.

Adelia sighed, full of relief, “isn’t this like a dream? Soon we’re going to be just existing as ourselves, free from rules or restrictions. Sure, we might have to lay a bit low for a time, but still! It feels like the beginning of a new chapter, or an entirely new book in a series! Isn’t it going to be wonderful?” 

“You know, sister? I think it just might be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, this took me a long time to finish. I'm proud of it though, and can't wait to write longer fics in the future! :D


End file.
